


Cosmic Orbit

by amelia_vale_official



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Comfort, Drabble Collection, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Humor, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Torture, LGBTQ, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, One Shot Collection, Romance, Torture, Violence, Whump, blade of marmora, koleith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-12 02:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia_vale_official/pseuds/amelia_vale_official
Summary: An anthology of one shots and short stories dedicated to Kolivan and Keith's relationship, varying from platonic to romantic with a myriad of genres. Requests welcome~





	Cosmic Orbit

Earth wasn't anything like Kolivan had imagined, nothing like the images he'd put together in his minds eye through Keith's occasional descriptions. At one point, he'd assumed Earth was nothing but a planet of deserts and dunes, because Keith spent hours describing the ruddy colored mountain ridges, tumbleweeds, and cracked ground. He would describe heat waves to put anyone out of commission, dog days where sweat poured off young cadet bodies as they trudged from one Garrison building to the next, fighting the heat by undoing the front of their uniforms against regulation and ducking their heads under the faucets in the restrooms to soak their hair in icy water.

Then there was a short time where Kolivan assumed from Keith's descriptions of large bodies of water that Earth was a planet consisting entirely of oceans and spotty islands. Kolivan would be sitting in the copilots seat in their pod, letting Keith take the controls, leaning back with arms folded over his chest as Keith chatted away about the cresting blue waves that seemed to swirl a million shades of turquoise, green, and sepia, comparing it to the blending colors of the galaxies they passed on their way to and from the Blade's base.

Kolivan had silently pondered the concept of galaxies being replicated in the currents of an ocean, until Keith looked at him, "Are you listening?" he'd asked, and Kolivan barely managed out a grunt, as he was so busy trying to visualize Keith's descriptions.

Keith stopped talking after that, but it was Kolivan's fault for not giving a direct answer. Of course he'd been listening. He always listened when Keith started to rave like this. Usually he was such a quiet kid, stoic, withdrawn and cautious, but there were times when they were alone when Keith would let himself relax a little, enough to talk. Not just talk, but rave and rant, because once he'd lowered the hard walls around him, he would talk so much and so fast that it was hard to keep up with him sometimes.

Kolivan struggled to wrap his mind around the concept of Earth, as it seemed like such an unrealistic planet. Was it covered in desert or ocean? Or did towering trees of emerald pine and jade moss govern the ecosystem? After days of wondering in confusion, he'd confronted Keith in his quarters with the question, receiving a blank stare in return, which had Kolivan wondering if something had been lost between them due to cultural differences, or even the language he didn't quite understand.

Then Keith had turned, digging through the worn satchel he'd been given for his meager belongings. It made Kolivan stare, eyes wandering around the small room. It was bare, empty, not even the bed seemed to be disturbed. Keith barely owned anything to his name. He'd arrived at the Blade's headquarters with the clothes on his back and a bag which carried only a change of casual clothing and a single book.

It was the book he pulled out, stepping back over to the door and flipping it to the first page, holding it out to Kolivan, who took it carefully into his hands as Keith spoke, "It has all of that," he'd explained as Kolivan eyed the sketched out desert landscape, "Earth has a lot of different... ecosystems," he used the word Kolivan had, pausing in thought before continuing, "There are oceans surrounding large masses of land, and on land there are deserts, forests, ranges of mountains. You've been to Olkarion, but that planet is the best comparison for Earth."

"I see," Kolivan had said, but he still didn't really, and Keith took the book back, flipping through the pages.

"Maybe you'll be able to see it in the future, when all of this is over."

"Perhaps."

It was unlikely, with the war taking so much from them. Kolivan had been ready to sacrifice himself for their cause for years now, never before had he let himself imagine anything short of a future. After hearing Keith talk so eagerly about Earth, though, and the landscape, Kolivan sometimes found himself making plans in his head. First he'd observe the desert, then the ocean, then find a forest-

Stupid, so stupid. Especially when Keith confessed that he never truly felt at home on his own planet. Because of his Galra blood, mixed up with his restless nature and eagerness to move and continue moving. Keith was a fighter, a warrior, his bloodlines were tied to the cosmos, and Kolivan understood that, likely more than Keith realized.

Keith recounted Earth's views with a fondness one had about a nice vacation. He never talked in such a way that Kolivan though he was homesick or missed the desert behind the Garrison, or the ocean side with beaches of white sand and coral pink shells. Keith didn't miss Earth. He made it very obvious there was nothing there he wanted to return to.

"My pop is dead. He's been dead," Keith had stated simply, grip tightening around the controls of the ship he was piloting, "There's no point in me going back."

"So what do you plan to do once this war has ended?" Kolivan asked, and it was wishful thinking to even suggest a war ten thousand years old would end soon enough for Keith to even make plans.

He answered though, "I guess I'll stay in space and look for my family."

"The Galra family?"

"... yea..."

Kolivan wanted to help Keith. He was a talented blade, picked up on training techniques quickly and learned to use his much smaller stature against the other blades he sparred with. He became a force made of lightning and strength, improving at miraculous speeds from the first day he stepped into the arena to train under Kolivan's tutorage. Kolivan didn't have to take him on as his student, he really didn't. He had plenty of work on his plate without taking on an apprentice, and there were other members of the blade who would be willing to help teach Keith everything he needed to know, but there was something about this human that Kolivan couldn't just brush aside.

Maybe because of his connection to Voltron. Maybe because of his connection to the Blade of Marmora, to Krolia. Maybe it was because he was so small and fragile compared to the others, Kolivan felt responsible for him. Whenever he looked at Keith he saw Ulaz, he saw Thace and Antok, and something seemed to crowd in his throat as his hand shook until he gripped the handle of his blade. He saw his soldiers who'd sacrificed themselves for their cause; sacrificed themselves for Keith.

Kolivan could not allow anything to happen to this small blade, not when so many of his operatives placed their bets onto him. He took Keith under his wing to honor his fallen friends, to keep him close and protected, without showing any kind of special treatment or affection at all, as that was unbecoming of the head of the blades.

Keith excelled under his training, Kolivan saw him as one of his greatest successes, yet it was Keith's strength and fierceness that always made Kolivan forget he was so much more vulnerable than the other blade members. When news came to him of Voltron's disappearance after an explosion of Quintessence and cosmic energy, his heart fell out of his chest, and feelings of guilt made his body ache.

Clearly it was his fault, after all. Another two operatives lost to the war. Keith lost to the war. Kolivan hadn't done nearly enough.

He was a leader, though, and had no time, no right to mourn. So he turned his head and moved forward. It was foolish to think he could concentrate, however, after losing something like this. There were times, in the months that followed Voltron's disappearance, where he would ask a question to the room expecting Keith to answer, and he never did. Kolivan would excuse himself once he realized what he'd done, and stand at a window simply staring out at the stars until he'd composed himself.

The loss of Krolia and Keith distracted him, and that distraction is what lead to the massacre of so many blades. Two years Kolivan hung uselessly in the air with his limbs held out unnaturally, joints aching from the strain, body burning from the lick of Macidus' magic torturing him.

In those two years, other blades would find him, and he wouldn't have the energy or strength to warn them of what laid there in the caves, watching with grit teeth and curled fists as they fell to Macidus. So many of his blades, all familiar faces, dead because he wasn't strong enough to fight back and protect them. He would once upon a time take every death and use it to fuel his resolve to look after the ones that remained, but now? Now he had nothing, and all he could hope for was to eventually pass away.

He maintained what sanity he had left by reminiscing about things that didn't tie in with the war, though there was so little in his past that wasn't war driven, it took him a long time to piece together memories. He honored his fallen brothers by thinking of them as they were when alive, strong and studious and devout to the liberation of the galaxy. They made him proud to lead the society, even prouder to have known he trained so many of them.

He thought about Antok and his unwavering loyalty to the very end, how he never questioned Kolivan's decisions and continued to stay at his side. His death had been painful. Kolivan thought of Ulaz, and of how the science driven Galra was the reason all of this was possible. Zarkon's death, it was thanks to Ulaz. The blade's alliance with Voltron was thanks to Ulaz. The end of the war, in whatever form it was taking, was thanks to Ulaz. Kolivan had called him a fool, but he really just wished he could thank him for his services.

Kolivan thought of Thace, how he sacrificed himself to not only ensure the success of their mission, but to save Keith's life. He thought of Krolia, her disappearance and radio silence that lasted almost two years before she returned to the base at last, missing her blade and with a different echo in her eyes than she'd had when she left. Kolivan remembered when he asked for a report, she didn't answer immediately, just stared at him, stared through him, with a tired expression, something like loneliness in her eyes, before blinking it away and dropping the gaze down, proceeding to give her report on the Blue Lion, its whereabouts, and her scouting mission.

When he questioned the time it took her, she just offered a wry smile, "I thought it best to protect the lion when I crashed. When more scouts came, I decided it best to return... I can protect him better from a distance...," the last few words were whispered and accompanied by pain in the lines of her face.

Kolivan had no idea, not a single inkling of what could have placed such an aged and weathered expression onto the face of one of his most skilled spies. Until years later when Voltron showed up at their headquarters, and Antok pinned down the Red Paladin before revealing a familiar blade. One that Krolia claimed in a shaky voice she lost.

At first Kolivan didn't understand what lead her to staying so long, even after this... child had been born, but after spending enough time around Keith, training him, he did understand a bit. This legacy of the blades was an enigma, he was a discrepancy in blood and behavior. He was special, and Kolivan clung to his memory as he hung, tortured and beaten, waiting for a final blow to end this suffering.

When he heard Keith's voice, he thought it wasn't real, as his mind had been filled with nothing but that voice for months now, so surely it was just another memory. Yet it wasn't. Kolivan was sure of it when he felt the ties holding him up break. The backs first, so he could plant his feet against the ground, a smaller body pressing to his chest to keep him upright as the ties around his wrists were cut, allowing his arms to fall achingly against his sides.

After hanging helplessly for so long, he didn't know how to use his arms and legs, and the figure in front of him struggled to keep him upright as he hung over them, "Help me with him, Hunk. Mom, you too, we'll have to carry him."

"Oh man he does not look good," a voice to his right noted before his arm was pulled over someone's shoulders, a second body pressing into his left side and dragging his left arm over another set of shoulders.

They laid him behind a curtain, propped against the wall where the blades of his operatives had been stabbed through sheer rock, and Keith closed the curtain too hide his condition from the other paladins before he, Krolia, and the small green one crouched near him. It was all overwhelming, and Kolivan was in too much lingering pain to express his disbelief and joy at seeing not only Keith, but Krolia, and the paladins. It had been so long thinking they were dead, watching so many of his people die because he couldn't protect them.

For the longest time he thought he'd failed at protecting Keith, and Krolia, but there they were, kneeling close and looking worried, hands on his shoulders to give him a bit of support. He wanted them both to stay with him, he knew he needed to recover, but he was also determined to find what blades remained and bring them together again, determined not to lose anyone else. He knew, though, that Keith had a different path he needed to take.

Kolivan didn't say goodbye, but then again, neither did Krolia, neither did Keith, because, as Keith said, it's not goodbye; and he was right.

Earth was far more beautiful from space than Kolivan ever imagined. Glancing to Krolia showed she held the same sentiment, and something deeper, more nostalgic. She'd been here before after all, she already knew its beauty. The first thing they got to see was the desert, and it was no different from any other desert planet. The scent in the air was a bit different, heavy and heady with iron and oil. It smelt like fire, like charred metal and wood, smoke and death, and sand. It smelt like the end of a battle, and it looked it too.

The Garrison was a mess, buildings were falling to pieces, some were nothing but rubble, charred blasts cutting into the ground, and the Voltron lions sitting in a line, but no sign of their paladins. No sign of Keith.

A lot of the personnel around scattered when Krolia and Kolivan stepped out of their pod, panicked and terrified of them, and it was those expressions that had Kolivan realizing the extent of what had happened.

"They were invaded," he said, and Krolia's entire body tightened.

It was Shiro and Commander Sam Holt who greeted them with something other than contempt or fear, and both were grateful for it, though Shiro's smile was weak and hid a shadow from the war.

"Where's Keith?" Krolia asked almost instantly, and Shiro gave a nod in the direction of a Garrison building off to the side.

"He and the other paladins are resting, I'll bring you to him."

"But he's alive?"

"He is alive," Shiro assured, "Everyone is alive, just... the last fight took a lot out of them. They need rest, a lot of rest. Keith more so than the others. Lance, Hunk, Pidge and Allura are all awake already, but Keith hasn't shown any signs of waking up yet. The doctor says he needs rest. A lot of rest," he sighed at his own use of repetition, shoulders sagging, as if he'd been saying the same thing to himself over and over like a mantra, and still didn't believe it, so the idea of trying to make someone else believe it just came out odd.

Keith had always been small, but compared to Kolivan, every one of these humans was small. Even Krolia was small; but seeing the paladin tucked deep under the white covers of the bed, head bandaged and cradled in pillows, he suddenly seemed even smaller than he actually was. Small, fragile, vulnerable and wounded; and Kolivan was not pleased.

"How long has he been like this?"

"... maybe a week," Shiro answered in a soft voice as Krolia went straight to the bed, walking around it to sit on Keith's left, smiling when Cosmo got up from where he'd been lying, tail waving in the air in greeting.

"A week, yet the other paladins have woken?"

"Their exhaustion wasn't as severe," a new voice said from the doorway, and Kolivan turned with Shiro to see a man standing there dressed in a floor length white lab coat and a clipboard in his hand; must be the earth doctor.

"The second mech that attacked used a kind of double scythe to absorb Voltron's quintessence, and the quintessence of the paladins," Shiro offered an explanation, "Keith, being the head of Voltron, took the brunt of the attack."

"His helmet cracked on impact when his lion hit the ground," the doctor added on, "His head swung forward against the console of his ship, giving him a concussion, but thanks to the helmet, he was spared immediate death."

Kolivan felt his brow twitch at that, fingers flinching towards his sword in a strange desire to cut this man's head from his shoulders. He managed to compose himself and turn away, pacing over to the bed to watch Krolia take one of Keith's hands between her own, squeezing and bringing it closer to kiss the backs of his bandaged knuckles.

"Aside from his head and some scrapes and bruises, he's physically fine," the doctor continued, stepping further into the room to stand at the foot of the bed, arms folded, "He's physically drained of energy and mentally exhausted. His condition is stable, however, and he's healthy as is, so I imagine he'll be waking up soon."

"I wish I could be here," Krolia looked over to where Shiro had walked up beside Kolivan, reaching his hand out to smooth his thumb across the bandages over Keith's forehead, "I have to make an appearance and give a speech at the memorial today."

"We'll stay with him," Krolia decided, and Shiro smiled weakly.

"If he wakes up make sure he knows he won, and that everyone is okay."

Kolivan seemed to wait for Shiro to leave out of respect before speaking, arms folded, "Is all human medicine this primitive?" he asked aloud, eyeing the needle stuck in the back of Keith's right hand, strange tube leading to a bag of some form of liquid hanging beside the bed.

What was it? Was it supposed to help him? Looking at it annoyed Kolivan. Why stick things into Keith's skin if it wasn't even helping him get better?

"Pardon?" the doctor squinted in slight disbelief at Kolivan, who reached out to the bag of liquid, "Careful, that's an IV, it's keeping him hydrated."

"What about this one?" he lifted a tube that lead to a needle stuck in Keith's wrist, taped down to keep it from dislodging, the skin around it red and puffy, tinted yellow and purple; Kolivan was pretty certain human skin wasn't supposed to look like that.

"Don't touch that one either, it's morphine."

"What's morphine?"

"It's keeping him from feeling too much pain, helping him rest comfortably."

"And that one?" he pointed to the little black pad stuck to his other wrist, and the doctor sighed heavily.

"That's attached to the heart monitor. Which monitors his heart rate. It'll beep faster if he's crashing, but right now it's steady. His condition is stable, he's just sleeping right now."

"Shiro said it has been a week," Kolivan noted, "but the others are awake, so why isn't Keith?" Krolia blinked and lifted her head to stare at Kolivan, appearing almost amused, "Your medicine is primitive."

The doctor was clearly offended, "I'm sorry that our treatment isn't up to your expectations, but it's the best he's going to get. He needs to rest. Don't get mad at earth medicine just because you need someone to blame for what happened to him," those words hit hard, and Kolivan watched the man turn on his heel, "Let him rest. I'll be leaving now. Contact the nurses if there's any change."

But there wasn't any change, not for hours, until Shiro's speech had finished. Krolia was sitting on the edge of Keith's bed while Kolivan lounged near the window so he could stare at the desert scenery outside. Both picked up on the change of Keith's breathing with their keen hearing, turning to watch as his brow seemed to draw down before cracking open his eyes, staring blankly at the wall before shifting to glance at the bed where Krolia sat.

"Mom...?"

His voice was dry and strained, and Krolia slipped closer, putting a hand on Kieth's shoulder as he rolled his head on the pillow, "Keith. How are you feeling?"

"How... long have you been here?"

"We only just arrived," Kolivan was the one to offer an answer, and Keith rolled his head to look at the other side of the room.

"What happened? Where's... everyone? Where am I?"

"The human hospital, hooked up to a few of their machines," Kolivan answered, a hint of annoyance in the tone of his voice that Keith didn't seem to pick up on, and Krolia rolled her eyes as she reached up to brush Keith's bangs aside.

"You're safe, everyone is safe and alive. You won, Keith."

Keith's tired face seemed to sag even further, eyes drooping and body sinking further into the bed, a sigh on his lips as they rolled closed and he fell back into sleep. That was a good thing, because everyone kept saying he needed to rest, but Kolivan couldn't help but think he'd be up and about already if they were still at their headquarters. This human medicine was too mundane, it certainly wasn't enough for Keith. Maybe because of his mixed genetics. Or maybe Kolivan was merely overthinking things.

It was a while before Keith started to wake up and actually stay awake. In the beginning he was still so mentally exhausted that he could barely keep his eyes open. Every time he managed it, it went the same way, panning them around the room, head rolling to look towards the door to see if anyone else was there, focus on Krolia, and pass out again. A few times Shiro had been there, Keith relaxed even faster, and his lips would curl into a tiny, weak smile that Shiro returned, though the commander's faded fast as he watched the Black Paladin fall asleep again.

There were a few times when he would wake up an start to panic, and Kolivan only knew he was panicking because of the way the heart monitor beside his bed began to beep in rapid succession. His chest would rise and fall quickly with shaky, unsteady, broken breaths, and it would take a minute to calm him down enough to close his eyes again. He would always sleep a lot longer after one of his panic attacks.

They always happened when Krolia wasn't in the room, or just out of sight. If Keith couldn't find her or Kolivan with his eyes without straining to look around the room, he would start to panic. It made sense, after what he'd been through. He didn't want to be alone.

"Stay close just in case he wakes up again," Krolia said, squeezing Keith's hand as she stood from the bed, "I need to speak with the doctors again."

"I doubt they will tell you anything new," Kolivan warned, but Krolia just sighed and stepped back.

"I know, but I need to know if there's anything I can do. He's been like this for a week, some of the paladin's have already been released from medical care," she watched Keith's face as he slept, taking a breath in before turning on her heel, "I'll be back soon."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Kolivan watched her leave with that promise following her, then stood and moved over to the seat situated beside Keith's bed, figuring it would be easier for Keith to see him if he was closer.

It wasn't long before Keith started to wake up again, but this time he moved, shuffled a little beneath the sheets, lifting a hand up to his face and grumbling something as he dug the heel of his palm into his eye, his other hand curling into the sheets.

"Keith," Kolivan called softly, and Keith lifted his hand from his eyes, blinking them and rolling his head to look at the Marmora head.

"Kolivan," he greeted, and the Galra seemed to relax.

Good, he sounded like himself. That was a good sign.

"How are you feeling?"

Keith's nose wrinkled a bit as he stared at the ceiling, then to the hand that was hovering over his face, curling his fingers into a loose fist, "Kind of tired... my head hurts a little... but better," he dropped his arm, looking around the room, "Was mom here?"

"She stepped out a moment ago to discuss something with the human doctors," Kolivan explained, folded arms tightening across his chest as he sat straighter in his seat, "I am not fond of their primitive medical techniques. You've been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past week, and that's after the week you were entirely unconscious and unresponsive."

"So, I've been here for two weeks?" Keith asked, cringing, and Kolivan gave a curt nod in answer, watching the way Keith rolled his head to glare at the light fixtures on the too white ceiling, then pinched his eyes closed, "Everyone is okay, though?"

"What I understand of the situation, your Green and Blue paladins are still resting here, but the red and yellow have been released and are currently aiding in the repairs and renovations both here at the Garrison and in the small city nearby. Alien refugees as well as members of the resistance and rebellion have built temporary encampments between Plaht city and the Garrison."

"The resistance is here too?" Keith asked, "I really have missed a lot. Matt's here? Matt Holt?"

"Yes, he's fine. Krolia and I even managed to track down a few living blades. They were deep in hiding, it's a miracle we were able to find them."

"Really? More blades?" Keith seemed plenty intrigued at that, pushing himself into a more upright sitting position, "Is there anyone I worked with? Ilun? Vrek?"

"I'm afraid not," Kolivan revealed, and his heart broke at the pained expression Keith offered him, settling back against the pillows and wrapping his arms around himself, "I'm sorry to tell you this, I know I didn't have time to really explain what happened before we parted ways last, but the blades you predominately worked and trained with-."

"Stop... don't...," Keith interrupted, drawing his knees closer and bowing his head as he buried the fingers of both hands through his hair, not caring about the bandages still wrapped there, "Don't say it, don't... it-it's not the first time we've lost members, and it probably won't be the last. This is a war, war breeds death, it... I get it. It's okay."

Kolivan felt pain, guilt, watching Keith curl into himself with his hands in his hair, shoulders shaking slightly. Somehow, at the back of Kolivan's mind, he'd assumed none of this would effect the young man. Whether it was because he was only half Galra, which made him less attached to the society, or because of assumed bias due to all the pain and suffering that the empire had caused, Kolivan had tricked himself into believing the blades meant next to nothing when compared to the paladin's.

Yet there Keith was, crying silently into his knees, crying for the Blade of Marmora and the members that they'd lost. His friends. The Galra he'd trained with, lived alongside for months. He helped many of them after missions, patched up their wounds and reassured them when they felt like they'd failed Kolivan, and the rest of the blades. Yet he expected nothing in return. Kolivan couldn't count the number of times Keith would help his fellow blades with their injuries only to wave them off when they offered to help him with his own. He treasured the connections he made, even if they were connections made with the alien race that started this war in the first place.

"You're allowed to cry for them," Kolivan said, finding himself speaking without thinking through it, "For those that we lost, and for those we didn't."

Keith gave a bitter, wet laugh, not lifting his head, "I'm not supposed to cry. I'm supposed to be strong. I'm the head of Voltron now, I need to be stability in the face of things like this. They need me to be strong, even if I'm not."

"There is no shame in mourning privately. As a leader, you have a right to honor those that fell, and perhaps in public face you have to mourn differently, but there's no one watching you here," Kolivan paused when Keith slowly pulled his hands from his hair, head still bowed and hair hiding his eyes, but not entirely the wet cheeks, "Even leaders will show weakness."

Keith rubbed at his eyes, pointlessly it seemed, as tears continued to fall, and Kolivan was torn between wishing Krolia would come back to comfort him and attempting to comfort him on his own. He'd never had to do such a thing before, certainly not with his operatives, where he had a strictly professional relationship with them. Keith, though, had always been a special case.

There was a chance that he would push Kolivan away if he even tried to comfort him, and that's what the Galra was expecting when he awkwardly lifted himself from the chair he'd taken to instead sit on the bed, arms lifted but hesitating, waiting for Keith to physically slap away his hands. He didn't, though his body tensed from the sudden closeness, and when Kolivan wrapped his small body into his arms, Keith willingly leaned into him.

His face buried against Kolivan's shoulder, and it was his turn to tense when he felt such small arms lift around to cling to the back of his shirt. Keith's arms were barely long enough to wrap around Kolivan's entire form, so he just burrowed his fingers into the fabric of the geometric designed wrap that all senior blade members wore and clung to him like that.

Kolivan's arms engulfed Keith easily, one large hand at the back of his head and tangled through his black hair, his other arm crossed around his shoulders to keep him close as he continued to cry quietly, the only signs he was still mourning were the shaking of his shoulders, subtle tightening of his grip on the back of Kolivan's shirt, and the sniffles.

He was small, so small, far too small. Kolivan knew it was normal for humans, but he still worried idly. Even for human standards, Keith seemed too small, too fragile. Did he ever eat enough? Was he the right weight for his age? Were all these IV bags and morphine even helping him?

Kolivan tightened his grip when he felt Keith's grip loosen, arms falling to his sides, panic coursing through him before he became aware of the soft puffs of breath against his neck. Keith had reached his limit of consciousness it seemed, falling asleep while leaning against Kolivan and wrapped in his arms. He was careful as he laid the paladin back into the bed, one hand cradling the back of his head and lowering it back into the pillows, before pulling the covers and sheets higher, reaching out to wipe at the tears on his cheeks before simply sitting there watching over him.

Idly he wondered if Krolia could have guessed, back then, how much her son would mean to the universe, and not just the universe, but to the Blades. To Kolivan.

He'd lost so much, he'd lost nearly everyone he'd ever known, yet he still managed to push forward as a leader, collect what was left of his society and build on the shattered foundation in order to continue the fight. He could lose everything and he'd still keep moving forward, because that was just what he's always done.

Now, though... with this small half breed... he realized that maybe there was something he was still afraid to lose; and what a terrifying thought that was.


End file.
